


Home Sweet Limbo

by Meltha



Series: The Limboverse [2]
Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Afterlife, Between Series, Jossed, Multi, after Chosen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-26
Updated: 2012-01-25
Packaged: 2017-10-30 03:23:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/327218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meltha/pseuds/Meltha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sequel to "The Other Side" of sorts. Spike has helped save the world and has earned a bit of rest, but it seems that other plans are in store for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: Parts of this will make precious little sense unless you've read "The Other Side." Also, aside from knowing one character is being added and one subtracted from Angel, I don't know any spoilers, so this is just my odd (and probably incredibly naïve) version of what might have happened to our dear William.  
> Disclaimer: All characters are owned by Mutant Enemy (Joss Whedon), a wonderfully creative company whose characters I have borrowed for a completely profit-free flight of fancy. Kindly do not sue me, please, as I am terrified of you. Thank you.

It tickled, he thought. How strange. As the Hellmouth imploded and sunlight was shooting through every part of his body, toasting him into ash, all he could think of was that it tickled like mad. A momentary image of the grim reaper with his trademark scythe replaced by a feather duster popped into his head, and he let out an actual giggle as he dissolved into nothingness, preparing for oblivion to swallow him whole. 

Except, of course, that wasn't quite what happened. Spike didn't exactly jump for joy about that, either. After all, if there was an afterlife, he was betting harps and fluffy white clouds weren't exactly in the offing for the likes of his kind. Besides, there was no force in the universe that could make him wear one of those foofy white dresses. No, he told himself as he stared at the swirling mists around him, you're about to meet the First on a personal, one-to-one basis for the rest of eternity. Well, let's see if I can make it at least as unpleasant for him as for yours truly. At least in this dimension, maybe It had a physical form he could pummel. 

Which was why, when Drusilla's form appeared in the distance, running at top speed towards him, it was perfectly understandable that he proceeded to give her a good slug in the jaw when she came within reach, causing her to fall to the ground with a small cry. 

"Bit of a tired disguise, there. Thought you'd have come up with something more original. After all, you spent a couple weeks trying to drown me as her, and it didn't work, now did it? By the way, what was the point of that? It was bloody annoying, I grant you, but vampires don't have to breath, you know," he said to the form lying at his feet. 

Rubbing her jaw soundly, Drusilla got up, taking a good-sized step back in the process, but she did manage to give him a smile. 

"William, dearie, it's really me," she said with a twinkle in her eyes. "Give yourself a moment and it should all come back to you." 

"What the bloody hell are you... talking... about..." Spike said as the scenery slowly changed into a strangely familiar green field covered with wildflowers. "I'm... wait... Something isn't right here. Where's the pitchforks and eternal fire?" 

Drusilla laughed wholeheartedly at his confusion, then smartly tweaked his nose. "I have missed you, old friend." 

Shaking his head thoroughly as though trying to clear remnants of the fog from it, he began to understand. 

"Dru? I've... I've been here before, haven't I?" 

"Of course, William dearest. You're back in Limbo again," she said with a smile. "I know it's a bit selfish of me, but I am so glad to see you. I've been watching you, of course. We're all so very proud of you." 

Spike suddenly found his arms quite full of a surprisingly warm Drusilla, and, to his surprise, he did indeed start to remember this place and the time he had spent here. Buffy had been here, and Darla, and Harmony and... yes, he remembered Liam and Bertie and dozens, even hundreds, of others as well. But there was something different, a feeling that hadn't been here before. 

"It's not the place that's changed, William, but you," said Drusilla in answer to his unspoken question. "Spike is a part of you now. Well, bits of him are part of you, the bits that earned peace. He really did turn out to be a remarkable being." 

Spike blinked hard and looked around, then, experimenting a bit, he recalled his old study where he had spent so much time, and as swiftly as he had remembered it, he and Drusilla were there, the fire crackling welcomingly in the hearth and the wind setting the long grass dancing on the moor outside the window. 

"Well, I never expected to see this place again," he said with a smile. "Much nicer accommodations than I was thinking I'd get. Dru, old girl, how've you been?" 

"Oh, she's been doing just fine," said a familiar voice from behind him. "I've been keeping her busy, redoing her wardrobe and getting her to listen to music from years doesn't start in 18." 

He spun around quickly and Harmony was lounging happily by the fire, warming her bare feet near the grate. 

"Harm! Well, it's been a while, hasn't it?" 

She giggled and nodded happily before launching herself at him and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. 

"So, why'd you go and get yourself killed?" she asked in the same tone of voice as though she were inquiring what he'd had for dinner last night. 

"Ehm, that wasn't really my intention," he said with some embarrassment. "Which brings up the question. What exactly am I doing back in Limbo? I'm quite well and truly dead this time. Or is this just a visit?" 

Drusilla sighed softly and shook her head. "We're not sure why you're here yet, William. There's been a great deal of confusion up in the higher realms as well. You see, there seems to have been several rather major... well, goofs, to put it kindly." 

"But Buffy," he asked quickly. "She's alright, yes?" 

"Far better than when you last saw her, William. Your return healed her, and her soul is now completely back in her body, joined together again," she explained, hoping that the loss of Buffy, even if it was only her unconscious soul, on this plane wasn't going to hurt him. 

"Should have known," he said with a nod. "She was more... well, alive this year than the one before it. Not so vacant." 

"Indeed," Drusilla agreed heartily. "William, I am sorry that the two of you won't be able to be together here. You must know that her soul still loves you very much, even if the rest of her isn't quite ready to understand that." 

William nodded, his eyes a bit full. "At least some part of her loved me after all." 

"And always shall, dear heart," Drusilla said kindly, sitting beside him on the sofa and patting his hand. "And always shall." 

"Are you guys hungry?" asked Harmony out of nowhere. "I am." 

A sudden banquet was spread on a checkered tablecloth on the carpet before them. Bags of Doritos, a few gallon tubs of Hagen Daas in various flavors, Twinkies, and some extremely large chocolate chip cookies were dotted around the cloth, and a pile of pink and purple, butterfly decorated paper plates stood nearby. Grinning, the blonde grabbed a newly materialized spoon and dug into a carton of strawberry ice cream. 

William looked at a plate dubiously, then quickly willed it black. There was simply no way the more Spike-ish part of him was going to eat off butterflies. He did not, however, have the least bit of trouble downing half a dozen oatmeal cookies, which had always been his favorite, at more than top speed. 

Drusilla merely sipped a cup of tea, no sugar, no cream, and gazed at the other two silently through its steaming vapor. Her Sight told her that William was not here for very long, of that much she was certain, but the choice of where he went was entirely in his hands. Of course, their two unusual guests of the past year would undoubtedly play a hand in the events to come, but she wondered if he was ready for that piece of information yet. 

"So, you saved the world," Harmony said conversationally. "What's that like?" 

William choked a bit on a rather large raisin at the unexpected question. "Better than not saving it," he said rather lamely. 

Drusilla smiled fondly at William, pleased beyond all telling at how he had handled the entire situation. He had managed to deal with Spike's guilt, been an ally to Buffy in her darkest hours, and given his life to protect innocents. His soul had always been dazzling, but now it shone so brightly that when she viewed it with her other eyes it was like having a small sun in the room. With a sly smile, she couldn't help wondering what the addle-pated Cecily would say if she knew what the man who she'd called beneath her had become. 

"So, like, does it feel weird being Spike and William at the same time?" asked Harmony bluntly. "Do you keep trying to decide whether you should dress in leather or tweed?" 

"No tweed for me, thanks," said Spike firmly. "But, yeah, little odd. Got two sets of memories now. Wonder if this is how Liam feels." 

He seemed to be adapting pretty well to the situation all things considered, Drusilla thought. Her brow furrowed as she considered all that he was still going to go through. Well, she mentally told herself, it might be nice if there were no problems, but this isn't Heaven; it's Limbo. A sudden burst of enlightenment hit her as her Sight abruptly decided the time was right to tell her the meaning of the strange series of events that had happened recently. 

"Cat got your tongue, Dru?" Spike asked, breaking through her reverie, and she startled back to herself. 

"No, William dear," she said. "I'm just beginning to understand something. You see, you're not our only unusual guest of late. There are a couple of others who, by all accounts, really shouldn't be here. One should be on earth still, and the other should have moved on towards heaven." 

"I don't remember that ever happening before," Spike said slowly. "Is my memory still full of holes? Or maybe they've got the same split-soul thing that Buffy had?" 

"No on both counts. Both are highly unusual situations," Drusilla explained. "However, one is here by choice, so that explains at least part of it." 

"Choice?" Spike said, raising his eyebrows. "Why would anyone choose to be here?" 

"She might explain that a bit better than I can. The other, however, the one who is still alive, seems to be directly related to you being here," Drusilla said. "Would you like another few hours to rest or shall I call them now?" 

Spike glanced over at Harmony, who had tuned both of them out completely and was happily making the flames in the fireplace morph into the faces of Antonio Banderas, Brad Pitt, and Orlando Bloom. Somehow, he didn't think if these two unknown spirits showed up it would interrupt anything of great importance Harmony had to say. 

"Best get it over with now," he said with a sigh. "Won't sleep properly until I know what's what."


	2. Chapter 2

Drusilla nodded, then sent out a mental call to the others. An immediate fanfare of loud trumpets blasted through the air as one girl popped into being with a blizzard of golden confetti in the middle of the room. 

 

"That is beginning to wear on me," Dru mumbled to herself. 

Spike stared at the vaguely familiar, tall, blonde woman. Something tugged in the back of his brain, but it was a full second before he remembered who she was. 

"Cordelia?" he asked uncertainly. 

"Duh," she responded. "Who'd you think it was, peroxide brain?" 

"Wouldn't go throwing stones at the moment, blondie," he countered. "So, Legs here is one. Where's the other?" 

"Um, hi," said a voice from behind him, making him jump a good six inches in the air. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you or anything." 

Spike turned around slowly and blinked. "Tara? What the blue blazes are you doing stuck here?" The rather stricken look she gave him immediately brought William to the forefront. "Not that I'm not glad to see you again. Rough deal you got there. Sorry about that Warren blighter." 

"S'okay," Tara replied softly, but a glint was in her eyes. "He's more than taken care of now, at any rate." 

"Okay, if I've got this straight then, Dru, Cordelia over there must be the one technically still alive and Tara, of course, belongs in the big happy-happy land in the sky, right?" Spike asked. 

"Pretty much," Cordelia interrupted. "See, my body got car-jacked by some loser lower Power which then got me pregnant by Angel's kid with Darla and left my body with stupid stretchmarks! I mean, hello, it'd be bad enough with a regular rug rat, but giving birth to a full grown woman? Do you have any idea how much liberal applications of cocoa butter would do nothing?" 

Spike stared at her, then looked at Drusilla. "I've gone crazy again, haven't I?" 

"No," Drusilla said, hiding a smile. "You're quite in your right mind. She's right. A rather unpleasant member of the Powers That Be lured Cordelia's soul out of her body and used it in order to have itself born. Angel defeated it a couple days ago." 

"Wait... Darla was in the family way when I was up here last time. That wasn't even two years ago! How did you..." Spike said, completely overwhelmed. 

"Big glowing portal, hell dimension, time lapse, yadda yadda yadda," Cordelia explained as she sat down next to Harmony by the hearth. "It's kinda like when those soap operas send a seven-year-old kid to school in Switzerland and they come back three weeks later and eleven years older. Except, you know, this was for real. Geez, did they not have comfortable chairs back in your day?" 

With a loud harp glisando, Cordy brought into being a sleek, tangerine-colored leather chair that honestly looked ten times more uncomfortable than any other seat in the room because of its bizarre lines, but definitely would have been at home in any high fashion photo shoot. Harmony looked up, ooohed loudly, then promptly made a matching chair for herself in a shade of bubblegum pink. 

Tara, meanwhile, was hovering to one side of the group and glancing nervously at the book titles that filled the shelves of the room. Drusilla went over to her and put a sheltering arm around her, guiding her gently back towards the group. She knew that the other girl's soul tended to shy away from Cordelia, her loudness reminding her a bit unpleasantly of a certain other person who was currently involved with a certain red-headed witch. In truth, other than being very opinionated, Cordelia hadn't really been so bad. Drusilla had taken a long look at Cordelia's soul and was surprised to see it had continued increasing in light. She had a good heart, at least. 

"Yes, well, now that we're all settled," Drusilla prompted them, "perhaps it would be best to explain to William here just what's happening, eh?" 

"Oh, um, right," said Tara with an embarassed face. "By the way, congratulations. You really did a great job, Spike. Um, should I call you Spike or William?" 

Spike tilted his head thoughtfully. "Not really sure. Both of us are in here. Either will do." 

"Okay," she said with a smile. "Well, I'm sort of here on my own volition, but I think it might make it easier on you if you know why. See, I had a chance to go on, but, well, there were some consequences from being involved with that resurrection spell of Willow's." 

"Not the brightest thing the witch ever did, but that was her problem, not yours," Spike said bluntly. "Anyways, she and Buffy have patched things up now. She's under control again." 

Tara's smile brightened. "Yeah, glad to see that. But, still, I feel sort of responsible for taking part in what happened, even if I didn't really know what was going on. I did know it was wrong, but I didn't want to fight Willow on it, and because of that the whole universe practically, well..." 

"Imploded?" Cordy finished helpfully. 

"Pretty much," Tara said with a grimace. "See, Buffy getting pulled out of Limbo like that weaked the borders between Earth and all the different realms out there, including the one the First usually stays in. They sealed up again, but it took them a while to get as strong as they were before, and while they were still weakened..." 

Spike groaned, "The First 'broke on through to the other side,' as they say, and that's how it managed to nearly wipe the world into hell?" 

Drusilla nodded. "Yes. Giles and Anya knew, but they never told anyone. Of course, we saw what was happening. We've been trying to do damage control up here for a while, and we did have some success. You noticed that the Turok-Hans became less strong since Buffy first had to fight them?" 

"Wondered how she was suddenly able to take out a slew of 'em when she'd barely survived an attack of one earlier, yeah," Spike said slowly. "Chalked it up to eating her Wheaties or something." 

"Well, Wheaties was us," Cordy said flatly. "You have no idea how much work it took to sap the strength of the First enough to weaken those guys." 

Harmony nodded sagely. "My hair went all flat." 

"Anyway, though," Tara continued, "I wanted to stay long enough to help here as much as I could. It seemed only right." 

Drusilla squeezed her hand tightly. "We were very lucky to have such a good ally on our side. It wasn't necessary for you to delay your reward, dear heart, but we greatly appreciate it." 

Tara blushed brightly, then said "I may be staying for a while yet, I think." 

"Battle's over, luv," Spike pointed out. "You've done more than your share by anyone's account." 

Cordy snorted loudly. "Spike, you doofus, the battle is never over. Thought you would have gotten that by now, what with being all 'champion' boy." 

"Yeah, the war keeps going, but her part in it's over," Spike almost growled. "Let the poor thing have some peace. She's more than earned it." 

"That's what I keep telling her," Cordy said loudly. "But will she listen? No." 

Drusilla intervened quickly. "Yes, well, the problem here actually is Cordelia." 

"Huh?" Spike said in confusion. "I don't follow." 

"I was Angel's link to the Powers That Be. They sent me these visions that were pretty much blowing a hole in the back of my head. Mind numbing pain. Really bad," she said grumpily. 

"I hear ya," Spike said. "Been there; well, not with the visions, but cranial pain is no stranger." 

"Anyway, when this Jasmine-Power-maggot-thingy got born, she threw me into a coma, and it's turning out to be a permanent thing," Cordelia explained. "I'm guessing it won't be much longer before lights out." 

"Tough break," Spike commisserated. 

Cordelia nodded fervently. "It pretty much sucks. But that's not the really big problem. Angel's lost his connection to what he's supposed to be doing down there, which could lead to big problems. Angelus-level big. As it is, he's working for an openly evil law firm now. Not exactly his most brilliant plan, which is saying a lot. He needs a guide, but, like all men, is he willing to stop and ask for directions on his own? Of course not." 

"Why don't the Powers just pick another one of his people to be their link?" Spike asked. 

"Because whoever it is needs to be at least part demon, and none of them are... well, except Lorne. He's all demon, but when Wolfram & Hart broke into his skull last year, they weakened his bone structure so badly that even one vision would kill him," Cordelia said. "Anyone else will wind up with the back of his or her head blown wide open eventually. Not a pleasant way to go." 

"What about one of our crew?" Spike suggested. "Anya was completely a demon for a while only a few months ago. She's human now, but there might be some residual effects." 

A volley of looks shot around the room at light speed. 

"William," Drusilla said softly, "Anya died in the battle." 

"Oh," said Spike, not quite sure what to say. "That's... unexpected. Should have had a good, long life ahead of her, that one. I liked her. She isn't here, is she?" 

"No," Drusilla said. "She'd made a few rather large mistakes in her life, but you'd be surprised how many errors are erased by being martyred while fending off Armageddon. She's safely home now." 

Spike nodded. "Still feel lousy about it, though. We lose any others?" 

"Amanda was killed, along with several others who you wouldn't know," Drusilla said sadly. 

"Amanda? Nibblet's friend?" Spike asked with a sigh. "Poor thing. That girl's lost too many people at her young age." 

"She's okay, though," Tara said, almost startling the others with her sudden input. "I mean, she'll be okay. I keep a pretty close watch on her." 

"Easy to turn that one into a favorite, isn't it?" Spike said with a guilty grin. "Brings out that whole sibling protectiveness thing." 

Tara nodded in agreement, smiling at the strange bond she felt with this version of Spike. She may have been able to joke with him a little on earth, but this time, with the soul added, she couldn't help feeling a bit of a kinship with him. William and she were a lot alike in many respects. 

"Anyway, to bring this back to my problem, which, hello, is the focus here," Cordelia said with slight irritation, "I'm about to check on out of my Human Hotel, if you get my drift, and Angel has nobody to be his link to the Powers That Be. No one. Nada. This is going to get seriously bad unless we do something." 

Spike glanced at her and had a sudden sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. She couldn't possibly be suggesting what he thought she was suggesting. It was impossible. It was ridiculous.


	3. Chapter 3

"No," he said quickly, standing up. "No, there is no way that I am going down there again. I've been stuck either on earth or in limbo for almost 150 years! Dru said getting yourself martyred to stop the world from ending cleared Anya's slate, and she had several centuries on me in the naughty department. That should give me a nice, one-way ticket to Paradiseville, departure time right bloody now!" 

 

Dru was beside the understandably upset soul in a moment, taking his arm gently. "William, would you walk with me a moment? Please?" she asked softly. 

He grumbled but, as he always did with the brunette, he gave in. "Oh, very well, Dru. As you wish." 

"Thank you. Tara, would you accompany us?" 

Tara's head shot up in surprise. "Oh, um, sure." 

Dru took her hand in one of her own and threaded her other through Spike's arm, leading both of them gently out of the study and off to a long expanse of grass that sloped down gracefully to a pond. A willow tree planted beside the still lake was reflected in the smooth water, and a few swans dotted the surface. A sandy path ran away in front of them, bending lazily back and forth until it reached the water, then skirted the edge of the bank. The luscious scent of apple blossoms filled the air, and a gentle breeze fluttered the leaves of the trees, making white puffs of clouds move slowly across the bright blue sky. 

For a while, they walked together silently along the path. Eventually, they reached a bench wide enough to seat them all beneath the willow, and they sat down. Tara received a rather abrupt shock at this point as she noticed Spike was no longer leather-clad and blond but rather dressed in a gray suit that would have been fashionable in the previous century and had a mop of tousled light brown curls, not to mention spectacles on the edge of his nose. She raised her eyebrows at the change, realizing this must be what he'd looked like as a human. 

Spike was momentarily embarrassed at this lapse. When he was alone with Dru, it had seemed perfectly normal to appear this way simply out of habit. During his first stay in limbo, he had occasionally affected the dress of whatever time was passing on earth, and Spike's black wardrobe was also part of him now, but this somehow always felt like home to him. 

"It's okay," Tara said, suddenly aware that he wasn't at ease. "You... you look... nice?" 

"Yeah, nice," Spike grated out. "That's me. I'm a real nice guy. Always finish last, they do. Let me guess. This place is your creation, isn't it?" 

"Yeah, how could you tell?" Tara asked. 

"Oh, I don't know. Big honking willow tree might have been a clue," Spike said, staring up into the branches overhead. "She does miss you too, you know, in spite of that whole Kennedy thing," he added honestly when he saw a shadow creep into her eyes, and a half-smile curled her lips. "So, what exactly did you want to say to me, Dru?" 

Drusilla sighed and looked out over the water, pausing for breath before she spoke. "William, no one would blame you for wanting to move on. You're quite right. You've earned your spot in heaven. Your soul must be very tired by now, I imagine." 

Spike's eyes held a faraway look as he also watched the birds gliding over the ripples. "Yes," he eventually answered. It was a simple statement, but the fatigue in his voice spoke more volumes than a whole library. The catalogue of his trials was very long, and Drusilla merely took his hand in hers and squeezed. 

"I don't want to ask you to do this," Drusilla said. "It's unfair, I know. The number of souls you've helped in this place is beyond count, and all it would take for you to spring into Heaven is a simple step. One moment, and you would never experience pain or frustration or heartache or fear again, only perfect bliss. But you need to understand what's at stake here, William." 

Tara watched the two, keeping her silence. She couldn't help but wonder why Drusilla had invited her here in the first place. The two of them were obviously deeply connected to one another, and while she saw no bonds of Eros in their auras, there was a tremendous sense of friendship and love between them. She felt like an intruder. 

He looked at Dru and a bittersweet smile split his face. "What would it be this time? The fate of the world again? Isn't that a little passe by now for me?" 

"Not exactly the fate of the world," Drusilla answered, "but there is a grave problem on the horizon. There are two roads ahead, and which one will be taken by a great many people depends on you. Tara, dearest, my Sight gives only me the power to see what lies ahead. Could you do me the favor of casting a spell, allowing William to see through my eyes for a bit?" 

"I think so, but I'll need to be part of the chain as well," Tara said, understanding her part in all this. "Just keep your hands joined and close your eyes." 

As they did so, Tara willed into being the needed supplies, carefully sprinkling a circle of sacred herbs around them, then placing her own hands on top of theirs. She uttered a silent incantation that allowed the opening of the inner mind, then abruptly found herself with Spike and Dru in the middle of a posh office. 

"This is the first road," Drusilla explained, "the one without you." 

Angel entered the room, and Spike was surprised to see tears on his face. He walked with slow steps to a small shelf on one side of the room. It was cluttered with framed photographs, most of them of people neither Spike nor Tara knew, but occasionally Angel appeared in the smiling groupings. However, there were two people that Spike did recognize. 

"I remember this one," he said, gesturing towards a photo of a fair-skinned man with black hair and vibrantly blue eyes. "Irish fellow. Worked for Angel when Spike... I... I'm starting to have serious trouble with pronouns here. Bloody hell, he worked for Angel during the Ring of Amara debacle." 

Drusilla looked at the picture. "Doyle, a half-demon. He died not long after that, giving his life for others." 

Spike took in the picture again, noting that Angel hadn't moved at all. "Well, something in common between us, then." 

"Actually, a surprisingly great deal in common. You died in nearly exactly the same manner," Drusilla said, a note of sadness in her voice. "It wasn't supposed to happen, though. The darker forces danced gleefully over his fall. You see, the visions were originally his, and he passed them on to Cordelia at the moment of his death. She was never intended for that." 

Spike looked at several pictures of Cordelia that were scattered across the shelf as well, most of them showing her trademark enormous smile. The rest of the pictures, though, remained a mystery to him: a young woman with long brown hair and doe eyes, an African-American man with a bald head and a know-it-all grin, another man who had changed so much over the years that Spike was hard-pressed to tell it was the same person in the glasses and Giles-like suits who was also appeared in other images as a man with a throat scar and world-weary eyes, and a dark-haired young boy who had eyes like Darla. There was also a strange demon with a green face and red horns who was dressed like Liberace on acid. As they stood there, Angel pulled another photograph from his pocket, setting it beside the others: Faith. 

"I don't understand," Spike finally said as he watched his grand-sire stand motionless before the pictures, his eyes dead. 

"Those are the people he loved most, William," Drusilla said softly. "His co-workers, his friends, his son: each one of them is gone now, a victim of the visions. The Powers will pass them on to someone: they need Angel too much to let that pipeline disappear. However, each person they chose will only survive for a very limited time before the visions destroy them. Angel has watched all of them die, one by one, and he believes it's his fault." 

"He's not the one picking them off. Why should he feel guilty?" he asked, his brows knitting together as he felt a most definitely Spike part of him wanting to call the vampire a brooding lunkhead. 

Drusilla's voice quavered a bit when she answered. "It doesn't matter whether he's really to blame or not. I did the same thing. Still do, sometimes." 

The corners of Tara's mouth twisted in sympathy and Spike felt momentarily ashamed of himself, but Drusilla firmly pressed his hand and motioned back towards the scene taking place. 

Angel had trudged with the steps of an old man over to his desk and was sitting there, looking at his large hands helplessly. The phone rang, shattering the quiet, and it continued to ring several times until at last Angel summoned enough strength to answer it. 

"This had better be important," he said, and though the words should have sounded like a threat, they came out almost pleading. A long silence followed, and Angel's eyes fell closed as he dropped the receiver to the floor, splintering the plastic. He was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane, and Spike knew the signs of coming unhinged all too well from personal experience. Whatever had happened, it was too much for him. 

"Dru?" Tara asked in concern, "what did they say?" 

"It was Giles. He called to ask Angel if he had any idea why Buffy had just collapsed on the floor with a splitting migraine while she had a vision of a demon attacking Angel on Rodeo Drive," Drusilla said, her voice full of pity. 

"Buffy? They'll pass the line on to Buffy?" Spike said in horror. "But, if Faith died..." 

"It would kill her in time, yes," Drusilla said. "But that's not what happens. Watch." 

Angel suddenly seemed to pull himself together, then stood and walked very deliberately to a bookcase and removed a single volume. He put his hand into the empty space it had left and appeared to flip a hidden switch. Immediately, the wall pulled away and there behind it stood an older man in a smart business suit, a contented smile on his face. 

"I told you that you'd want to use that eventually," he said with satisfaction. "Have you finally decided to come to an agreement with us?" 

Angel stared at the man for a minute before hitting him so hard that he flew into the wall behind him. 

"If I give you my soul, become Angelus again, that will sever the link, right, Holland?" Angel snarled. 

"Yes, yes, the link will be destroyed, no one else will die, Buffy will return to full health. I give you my word of honor, Angel," Holland said, sounding amazingly undisturbed for someone whose body had just left a deep imprint in the cinderblocks behind him. 

"You have no honor, but I know your kind well enough that you won't cheat on this kind of deal. Do it," Angel muttered. "You finally win." 

Tara's mouth dropped open in shock as she saw Angel's soul sucked out of him at his words, forced into a glass bottle in Holland's hands and shrieking in agony. Spike, however, was instead looking at the slow smile that gripped Angelus's face, and he was convinced in that instant that the world as they knew it was doomed. 

"I understand why he did it," Spike said slowly, "and I'd have done it too for Buffy. But we can't allow this to happen. The other option, Dru, if I choose to go back, what will happen?"


	4. Chapter 4

"That will be his choice, of course," she said. "He could still slip and lose everything. Watching over Angel is an exhausting challenge, I've found. But if all goes well, his future would be this." 

 

The three found themselves in a beautiful park, in broad daylight, standing by a white latticework gazebo and looking at a small group of people within. Dawn, now in her mid-twenties, was wearing a lovely pale blue gown, as were Willow, the brunette woman from the photograph, who was crying into an embroidered handkerchief, and Faith, who appeared extremely ill at ease in the satin and lace. Xander stood to the side, looking unmistakably grumpy in a tuxedo, and the similarly clad green demon, bald man, and man with the throat scar from earlier crowded around. When they moved slightly out of the way, it became plain what was happening as a beaming Giles put a radiant Buffy's hand into Angel's before a justice of the peace. The shaft of sunlight that it was all taking place in left no doubt. 

"He's human?" Tara asked in surprise. "That can, like, happen?" 

"For Angel, it is possible, and if he lasts that long, then yes, there is no doubt. He will marry Buffy," Drusilla said, watching the emotions fly over Spike's face. 

"Let me get this right," he ground out. "If I do nothing, Angelus is going to make the world a living hell for the entire human race. If I come back and do my job properly, he's going to marry my soulmate? That's one hell of a choice, Drusilla." 

"Yes, it is. I'm sorry, William," she said as Angel slid a claddagh ring onto Buffy's finger once more, the heart facing inwards. "I know this is painful for you, but you need to understand what the possible consequences of your choices will be. I won't mislead you." 

Spike leaned close to Buffy's face, watching her smile more joyfully, more completely, with more of her soul, than he had ever seen her smile anywhere except in Limbo. In his arms. In their bed. When she and Angel kissed passionately and their assembled friends applauded as the two were formally introduced as husband and wife, the rage in him swelled until he could stand no more. 

"Enough!" he yelled, letting go of Drusilla's hand and snapping them all back into the reality of the pond. "That's no choice at all!" 

Surprisingly, it was Tara who touched his shoulder, and though he pulled away, she didn't budge. 

"I know what it's like to see someone you love move on," she said honestly. "I know it hurts, Spike. But you did see her. She's really happy in that reality. I've watched you for the past year, and I know you love her. I know you wanted to give her that happiness, and now you can. It won't be how you wanted it to be, but you would still be responsible for it." 

Spike looked at her, and his eyes were filled with unashamed tears. "You're a rare one, pet. I don't know if I can do this. I don't know if I can bear it." 

"You've already weathered so much," Drusilla said softly. "It's a very great storm, but I believe you can survive it as well." 

Drusilla rested her head against his shoulder comfortingly, and Spike was surprised to feel Tara nestling her head on the other one. The three sat there for a very long time, each nursing their own wounds: one remembering the pain and guilt she had felt when she had lost everyone she held dear, one recalling being reunited at last with her true love only to have a senseless act rip her away, and one haunted by the knowledge that the only way his beloved would know happiness in her life was if he delivered her into the arms of another man. As it had turned out, the Cockney seer, the Victorian idealist, and the Wiccan lesbian had more in common than most would have supposed. Loss had bonded them. 

Ages seemed to pass, each one weighing more heavily than the last, until at last Spike spoke. 

"So, how do I go back, then?" he asked, sounding terribly weary. 

Drusilla turned her head and smiled at him proudly. She had known that once he had seen what could happen, he would agree to return. When this one would finally have peace, it would be in incomprehensible bliss, of that she was sure. 

"Not now, my treasure," she said, leading the three of them from the bench and back up the path. "You need rest first. There is no call for you to return for several months at least, and I intend to see that you make the most of them. Come, let's tell Cordelia and Harmony of your decision, and then you can sleep. I'm sure you need it." 

As they walked, Spike self-consciously became blond again, followed by a complete switch to his usual clothing before they reached the study. The scene they found was not exactly what they had left. 

"Hey," Cordelia called over her shoulder. "Like what I've done with the place?" 

Spike stared at the far too pastel room, which had noticeably fewer books, a very large number of magazines scattered on the floor, and a rather prominent portrait over the fireplace. While it at first glance it appeared to be the Mona Lisa, the face now closely resembled one Cordelia Chase. The subject of the portrait was currently sitting on the floor with Harmony, in the act of applying lipstick to the other girl. 

"See, I told you that a peach-based red was more your thing than a red-based peach," Cordy said sagely, holding up a mirror for Harmony. "Dru, Tara, when you gonna let me do your make-up?" 

Drusilla and Tara exchanged a look that clearly stated several hell dimensions would freeze over before either of them was going to let the debutante anywhere near them. 

"Perhaps later, Cordelia," Dru said firmly. "William has come to a decision." 

"I'll go," he announced without fanfare. 

"Cool," Cordy said as she turned back to Harmony. "Now, about that blush you're using. Totally wrong. You need something less carnation and more geranium." 

Spike's eyes nearly rolled out of his skull as he left the study, intent on finding a place to rest. Oddly enough, it was Tara who followed him. 

"Uh, Spike?" she asked uncomfortably. 

"It's all right, Glinda. I don't bite anymore," he answered, trying to put her at ease. 

"I know, it's just... look, Dru and I have talked a lot in the last year, and I figure you probably don't have a place to go yet that isn't connected to, you know, memories and things," she said. 

Spike hadn't even thought of that yet. She was right. Every single setting of his own he had shared with Buffy when she had been here, usually quite intimately, and the idea of coming up with something new for himself was out of the question because of his exhaustion. 

"You've got me there, luv," he agreed. 

"If you want, you can borrow one of mine. Something, you know, un-frilly," she offered. As she spoke, the world around them slowly became a forest of very tall trees with silver moonlight filtering down between the branches. Birdsong from high above lulled the senses, and a circular stairway coiled up one of the trunks to a platform with what looked like a very soft, sage green velvet covered bed. 

Spike looked around, a small frown forming between his brows. "I've seen this place before somewhere." 

Tara looked guiltily at the spreading branches and bit her lip. "Umm, I kind of like _Lord of the Rings_..." 

Spike felt a true laugh break out of him, the first in a very long time, startling the birds in the trees above. "Tara! I'd never have pegged you as having a thing for Legolas!" 

"No, I don't, really, it's just..." She sighed helplessly. "Okay, I do. Don't tell Willow, please?" 

"My lips are sealed," he promised as she disappeared, leaving him in peace to sleep undisturbed in his own private Lothlorien. "Well, as long as that prissy archer doesn't show up and try to have his wicked way with me, at least," he added under his breath. 

Feeling so deeply tired that his feet seemed to be made of sacks of lead, he climbed the winding stairs until he reached the bed, then collapsed, still wearing his beloved duster, into the pile of soft velvet. He was instantly in a dreamless sleep, never stirring a muscle. Several days would pass before he would open his eyes again.


	5. Chapter 5

The months of Spike's recovery passed quietly in Limbo. Cordelia didn't feel quite ready to move on to her own final resting place yet, and Drusilla felt that this was most likely a good idea. Things needed to become unknotted a bit more to pave the way for William's re-entry to the other reality. Cordelia, as was usually the case, somehow seemed to ingratiate herself to the others through her complete lack of tact. At times, Spike was reminded very vividly of Anya, and the connection that Xander must have felt between the two was obvious. He missed the former demon in spite of himself, even knowing that she was perfectly happy now, and for Anya's memory's sake he managed to tolerate the former cheerleader much better than he could have anticipated. Still, she spent most of her time with Harmony, which was surprising, in a way. Harmony and Dru were the only two of their group to still have the pain of their other selves feeding, and it was strange to see how Cordy would suddenly become immensely protective and thoughtful around her friend when she started to show signs that the other Harmony was up to something dire. 

 

Tara remained. It was obvious that she and Drusilla had formed an unlikely friendship during her time there, though there was no smack of romance about it. Spike couldn't really understand at first what kept her there. Of all the Scoobies, she was probably the one most likely to have spring boarded into heaven without a hitch. But it became obvious over time; she missed Willow. Frequent visits to the redhead were paid by the soft-spoken soul, and Spike found himself sometimes tagging along since Buffy was often in the vicinity. It was becoming a problem, though, and one Spike finally addressed. 

"Tara," he asked her as the two sat on the same bench by the pond after one of their sojourns to earth, "why do keep visiting Red when it hurts you so much?" 

Tara brushed a tear away, then looked at him with a bittersweet smile. "The same reason you keep visiting Buffy when it hurts you." 

He snorted roughly at being caught. "Hurts like bloody hell, don't it?" 

"Yeah," Tara agreed. "But I just can't let her go yet, you know?" 

"I know," he said. "Believe me, I know. How many blokes has Buffy dated in the last four months? Five? Six? Soul or no, there's times I'd all but kill to be one of them." 

"At least she isn't really serious about any of them. Willow and Kennedy are, you know, pretty well long-term now," Tara said. 

"Yeah. Never liked that bird myself," Spike stated bluntly. "Got a mite of a superiority complex." 

Tara glanced around quickly as though to make sure they were alone before saying, "Oh yeah. Tell me about it. I mean, she makes Willow happy, which is good. Really good. Really, really good. But..." 

"But it still hurts like hell," Spike finished. 

"Like bloody hell," Tara said with a sheepish grin. "She's really doing okay, isn't she?" 

"I'd say so. Magic is under control, enrolled in college, that software job helping to pay a bit of rent on the flat she, Buffy and Bit keep in Cleveland. Yeah, her head's on straight again, if you pardon the expression," he agreed. 

Tara nodded. "And so's Buffy. She's really okay, Spike." 

Spike blew out a completely unneccessary breath as his shoulders slumped. "I know. I just... Even now, I can't stay away. I miss what we had here." 

"I'm sorry about that," Tara said, her eyes suddenly brimming with tears once more. "I should have said something to Willow, made her stop. It's my fault that..." 

"Nonsense," he cut her off. "Willow would have raised Buffy with or without your help. You know that." 

"But I should have..." 

"Should have, could have, would have! What's done is done!" he shouted. "There's not a damn force in this universe that can give her back to me now, and thinking about it is only going to drive us both crazier than I was a year ago. Let it go, Tara. Forgive yourself. You did one rotten thing in your whole bleeding life, and you didn't even realize just how rotten it was at the time. That doesn't make you evil; it makes you a human being." 

Tara was taken aback momentarily by his tone, but she realized that he meant what he said. He didn't hold her responsible for wrecking his afterlife with Buffy. Somehow, the feeling of acceptance acted like a balm on her spirit, healing her self-inflicted wounds of guilt. 

"Thanks," she said, and she meant it. 

"Welcome," Spike answered, letting the moment pass. "Feel up to listening to Harm and Cor twitter on about hemlines?" 

Tara laughed easily. "No thanks. I'd rather see how Dru's doing." 

"Right then. Shall we go?" he asked, offering her an arm and escorting her to Drusilla's favorite garden. 

The brunette's other self had been giving her an increased amount of trouble lately, and she'd taken to retreating to her roses and lilacs on her own quite often, partly because she was comfortable there but equally to save the others from having to witness her agonies over Drusilla's kills. Over 140 years had passed without a single break in the vampire's violence, and the soul had still never become jaded to it. When the two arrived, Dru was in her hammock, a slight dampness still glistening on her brow as the latest attack finished subsiding. 

"How you feeling, luv," Spike asked, once again looking like his former human self as he pulled up two chairs beside her and sat down on one, straddling the seat. 

"Oh, just fine, dearie," she said weakly, fooling no one. 

Tara, who had remained standing, placed a hand on Drusilla's head and quietly chanted a spell that eased away the last remnants of her pain. A smile crossed her face as she saw her friend's discomfort subside. 

"That's much better. Thank you, Tara," she assured her. "I'm afraid the other Drusilla has been having rather a difficult time of it of late. She knows Spike is gone, you see, and with the last bit of her family erased, she's gone into something of a frenzy. I can't help feeling a little sorry for her." 

"Why?" Tara asked, dumbfounded. 

"Most of the time she doesn't really understand what she's doing. She's evil, or course, but in many ways she's like the broken dolls she plays with. And she's always been terrified of being alone. I was, too, when I was alive, so we have that in common. Now, there's no one left on the earth who's hers or who she belongs to. She's desperately lonely," Drusilla explained. 

"Think she'll sire again?" Spike asked. 

"No," Drusilla said definitely. "She doesn't want to lose anyone again. Right now she's in Paris once more, walking by the Seine. She takes the same route every night, the one she took with Spike almost fifty years ago. Her kills are getting far less cautious and far too repetitive. I think she's trying to get herself caught." 

"Might be the best thing for you," Spike said. "Finally get you out of this place. More than put in your time, you have." 

"I doubt it. I think the Powers want a seer on this plane. There's a good chance that even if Drusilla does turn to dust, they'll ask me to stay here, at least for a while," she said softly. 

"When does it get to be fair?" he asked her, frowning. 

"That would be the next life, William darling," she said with a wink. "At least, I think so. Perhaps it's the next life after the next life?" 

Tara chuckled. "Dru, if you weren't straight and I weren't still in love with Willow, I'd have to date you." 

Drusilla patted her hand fondly. "Thank you, sweeting. Unfortunately, I'm the least of our worries right now. William?" 

He knew before she said another word. 

"How soon?" he asked calmly. 

"I'm afraid you have only two days left, dearest, before you'll have to go. Cordelia's time is almost up. When her mortal body dies, you must either take her place then or never return," Drusilla told him.


	6. Chapter 6

"Just how is this going to work, Dru? I mean, am I going back as a ghost or a vampire or a talking lampshade or what all?" he asked, trying to lighten the mood. 

 

Tara suddenly giggled, then turned pink. "Sorry, just... picturing Spike as a lampshade. One of those ones from the 70's with gold ball fringe and burnt orange and avocado hippie flowers..." she said as she dissolved into laughter again, "and fangs!" 

Spike and Dru exchanged looks that clearly said they thought Tara had gone insane. Even in the afterlife, no one got her jokes. 

"Ehm, yes," Drusilla said, looking in mild concern at Tara swallowing another fit of chuckles. "Yes, well, you won't be a lampshade, with or without fangs, I can tell you that much, but even I'm not certain what form you will take. After all, your body is ashes. At least with Buffy there was still a basic structure left, but I'm afraid that's not the case for you. I'm not even sure if you will have a physical body." 

"I really don't have much idea what I'm in for down there, do I?" Spike said, realizing that he could be in quite far over his no-longer existing head. 

"There are a few things we do know, William," Dru said as she sat up in the hammock. "You won't be able to remember Limbo, as is usual with those who have been here, except perhaps as a pleasant but very unclear dream." 

"He, uh," Tara broke in, "he won't be, you know, like Buffy was when she came back, will he?" 

"No," Spike answered quickly. "She got all twisted up inside because her soul was broken in half. I'm assuming I'll be able to take the whole thing with me." 

Drusilla nodded firmly. "Yes. And you're leaving of your own volition, which makes a difference as well. Also, your main function will be to help Angel, so you'll have to at least be able to communicate clearly with him. I'm not certain if you're actually supposed to help him fight or even if you'll be permitted to speak with the others. It's possible only Angel will be able to see and hear you, but then again, you may be granted a perfectly normal body again." 

"Human?" Spike said, suddenly hopefully. 

"No," Dru responded at once. "No, only someone who is at least part demon is capable of receiving the visions without being killed eventually, so the one other thing we do know is you will not be a human." 

"Right," Spike muttered, "because a little ray of sunlight would be just too much to ask for in all of this lovely gloom and doom." 

The hours went by quickly for Spike's final time in Limbo. It was strange, but he didn't really seem to know what to do with himself. He supposed he should be reveling in every possible delight the dimension afforded, but he didn't have the heart for it. All he wanted to do was stay in his study, his feet propped up on the hearth, as Dru, Tara, and occasionally Harm and Cordy talked in the background while he read or watched the flickering flames lick at the wood in the fireplace. Everything felt vaguely haunted, even more so than it did when he first arrived. Everywhere he looked, he was pursued by memories: the beach where Buffy and he had their first picnic after her arrival, the green valley where Harmony had let slip that he was in love with the former Slayer, the wildflower bedecked fields where she had been taken from him in a maelstrom of fire and wind. Even in his library he was pursued by the ghost of Buffy's green eyes smiling at him as she added marshmallows to his hot chocolate. But there was one place he refused to visit until the very end. 

Cordelia had stopped explaining to one of the newly sired arrivals the evils of polyester in mid-sentence with a quick gasp. 

"Um, Drusilla?" she said in a strangely small voice. "I'm thinking something's going on down there." 

Dru's eyes whipped to the other woman as Cordelia's face grew pale. "It's starting, isn't it?" 

Cordy tilted her head in thought. "Yeah, I'd say so. It feels... weird. Not painful, really, but sort of like... you know how before a power outage sometimes the lights will blink?" 

Harmony stared at her friend. "There's blinking?" 

"Oh yeah," Cordelia said emphatically. "Morse code level blinking." 

"It's all right, Cordelia," Drusilla said, sitting next to her as the girl caught her breath. "There's no need to be frightened. Everything is going to be just fine. You have only a few moments left, and then you'll be free to move on from here." 

In spite of herself, Cordy gripped the seer's hand firmly. "Good place, right?" 

"Very good place," she assured her, squeezing her hand in return. "I'm quite sure." 

"Right. Better have lots of shoes up there. I'm just saying," Cordelia said with a smile. "Nice to have friends around. Spike?" 

"Yeah, Legs. Right here," he said, moving closer. 

"Look, thanks for taking over for me. I know Spike and Angel didn't really get along so good, but he needs someone looking after him. It's good to know it'll be you. You won't put up with his moaning and groaning, either. Sometimes he needs a good kick in the pants, and I know you can do that pretty well," Cordelia said honestly. "Really, thank you." 

The blond smiled at her for a second. "Welcome, Cor. Have a good trip." 

"I'd say I'll send you a postcard, but they're so tacky," Cordy joked. Her face fell a moment later though. "I don't do scared," she said through gritted teeth more to herself than anyone else. 

Tara looked at her for a long moment, and then set her mouth in what was a pretty good imitation of Willow's resolve face. "Would it help if you weren't going alone?" 

Everyone's gaze turned on Tara at once. 

"You're certain?" Drusilla asked carefully. 

"Yeah," Tara said, and she smiled peacefully. "Yeah, it's time. William's right. Willow's okay, and I can still keep tabs on her from up there, I think. It's time to go." 

"You called me William," Spike said, his voice cracking a bit. "Never done that before." 

"It just felt right. Everything is going to be okay for you. I just know it," Tara assured him, her face glowing with inner tranquility. 

"Goodbye, Tara dear," Drusilla said with a note of sadness behind her smile. "I'm sure we'll meet again one day. When we do, pancakes?" 

"With blueberry syrup," Tara agreed. 

"Shoot. Everybody's leaving," Harmony pouted. "Sounds like fun though!" 

"So, ready?" Tara asked Cordelia in a confident voice. 

"Yeah," Cordy said. "Yeah, I think I am." 

The two women joined hands and, accompanied by a highly theatrical crescendo that no one doubted was Cordelia's doing, they faded slowly from sight, leaving behind only air. 

"Guess that's my cue, eh?" Spike said. 

"You can have a moment, William," Drusilla told him. "I'm sorry to lose you again, and even more sorry that you aren't going to the rest you've earned, but I promise, I'll never be far. Whether you know it or not, you'll always have my love." 

Harmony blew her nose delicately on pink tissue. "That's so sweet! Good luck, Spikey!" 

"Thanks, Harm," he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. Turning to Drusilla, he took her hand in his and raised it to his lips. "Thank you, Drusilla, for everything." 

As the time came near, Spike willed himself alone to the one place in Limbo he hadn't revisited. As the plum blossoms gently spiraled to the ground like snowflakes in the lane where Buffy had told him that she had chosen to be with him, that she loved him, he closed his eyes and remembered what it felt like to be truly loved even if it was only for a brief time. 

"Was worth it," he said softly. "Was worth every minute of it and always will be." 

Then Spike too faded out of sight, not sure of his destination, but willing to do whatever he had to in order to make Buffy's dreams come true. Somewhere far away, from another plane of existence, a joyful cheering rang forth. 

"Alone again, huh Dru?" Harmony said as she sat with the Englishwoman on William's couch. 

"I suppose so, Harmony," Drusilla agreed. "Lots of comings and goings all the time, but we remain constant, it seems." 

"Yeah," Harmony said. "I'm gonna go grab a pizza with some of the new arrivals from that vampire attack in Belgium. Wanna come?" 

"Not just now," Drusilla answered with a sigh. 

Harmony cocked her head thoughtfully. "You okay, Dru?" 

Drusilla smiled at the girl's show of concern. "Yes, Harmony. I'll be just fine. You go and have a good time. I'll see you later, perhaps for dessert." 

"Kay," she said as she left, leaving behind her a scent of cotton candy and fresh squeezed oranges. 

Drusilla prodded the fire with a poker morosely; she wasn't really fine, but she didn't want to bring down Harmony's good spirits if she could help it. Her Sight told her only that the road William was going to travel was filled with perils and trials. She had confidence in him, but she missed him already, along with Tara and Cordelia and even Darla. Sometimes she just became tired of being alone. 

"I beg your pardon upon me, my lady," said an unfamiliar voice in the doorway, "but are you perhaps Drusilla?" 

"Yes," she said, turning towards the speaker, "I'm Drusilla. Is there something you wan..." 

She broke off mid-word as she took in the person who had just entered the room. Tall and slim, he was clad entirely in soft forest green, his clothing looking like something from long before she had been born, and a bow and quiver of arrows were slung over his shoulder. His face was very fair, with brilliant blue eyes and a soft, kindly mouth. With a start, she realized that the points of two decidedly non-human ears were just visible in the shining strands of his long, golden hair. 

"Huh?" she asked intelligently. 

"I have found you, then," he said, smiling warmly at her and making her very glad she was sitting down as her knees melted into butter cream icing. "Tara and William spoke truly. You are wondrous fair, if you will forgive my boldness in saying it." 

Drusilla blinked slowly. "Tara and William?" 

"Indeed. They have laid upon me the charge of protecting you and being your companion for so long as you desire me. Will you walk with me, lady?" he asked as he took her hand and guided her to her feet. 

"I think I would like that very much," she said with a shy smile while inwardly giggling hysterically over her friends' parting gift. "Very much indeed." 

"So... do you like trees, Drusilla?"


End file.
